


A.I.: Corruption

by graywhatsit



Series: Hatbots [8]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Gen, Hat Films, Out of Character, glitching, hatbots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graywhatsit/pseuds/graywhatsit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bots are acting weird.</p><p>Really weird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A.I.: Corruption

_‘I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.’_

“Smith? What are you watching?”

“Shh!” The engineer waved a hand at his companions, eyes never leaving the screen. “2001: A Space Odyssey. Why?”

“Just curious.” Ross shifted his weight onto one foot, studying the screen curiously. The glowing red eye of the computer on the TV was certainly intimidating, though it wasn’t real- he could see why something like that could be so iconic. “That an AI?”

“Hm? Yeah. Nowhere near you two, though. It’s an old movie, and an old book. You two were just dreams when these were made.”

“We were dreams two years ago.”

“Whatever. Can I watch in peace, please?”

The android rolled his eyes, but kept quiet, allowing Smith to watch his film. Trott entered not five minutes later, about to ask the same question, but Ross shushed him, watching even more intensely. He’d explain to his friend later.

**Stage One: Irritability**

About a week later, Smith had completely forgotten about their expressed interest in the movie. They’re just naturally curious constructs- it’d be weirder if they didn’t wonder things. Either way, he had more important things to think about than some movie. Like the new video project they’d been starting. Some subscribers had already started to trickle in, but they’d see how far it went in the future.

Speaking of, they needed a video to go out, didn’t they? And a quick look at the clock showed that, if they wanted it out today, someone else would have to put it together.

“Hey, Trott?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m running late for work- could you edit the video for me?”

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

That was unexpected, both the words and the harsh tone. He’d never heard the shorter android sound like that, not once since his creation. “Trott, I _can’t_.”

“Then we’re not putting a video out, are we?”

“What the fuck? I just asked-”

“You ask us to do everything for you!” The look Trott was giving him was a veritable death glare, and he found he had to take a step back. “We have things to do, too. We’ll put it out tomorrow, I’m not editing _another_ thing because you couldn’t finish yours.”

“Well, I’m fucking sorry I have to work to live! Do whatever you need to do, I’ll just ask Ross.”

He probably shouldn’t have gotten equally as snippy, but there was no reason for Trott to act that way. Sure, he may get irritated, but openly hostile at a request like that? He’d have to check back with him later, make sure it wasn’t some bug.

Ross stood at the sink, very carefully washing breakfast dishes. Though they were somewhat waterproofed, he didn’t want to risk it, opting to wear rubber gloves whilst working.

Needless to say, it got a _lot_ of teasing.

“Hey, Ross, I’m running late. Think you could edit? Trott’s being a twat.”

The swish of water and clank of various dishes paused as the android looked over his shoulder, giving Smith an extremely annoyed look. “I’m already washing the dishes, and you told me to do laundry. I’m not doing anything else.”

“What, you, too? What’s wrong with you two?”

“We’re not your fucking chorebots! We’re not putting it out today, we have too much to do. You want it out, stay home and do it yourself.”

“Considering I need to work to keep us all alive, that’s not happening.”

“Then stop whining about it and _go_!” The construct drained the water, setting the damp dishes aside to be dried, and pulled off his gloves. “Shoo, I need to get to the clothes basket.”

Bewildered, Smith could only step aside, watching after his friend. What was going on?

**Stage 2: Glitching**

Their mood hadn’t improved, even after a few days. Whenever asked to take care of something, each android would snap at him, angrier than he’d ever truly seen them, and flat out refuse to do it, even when asked politely.

Well, about as politely as Smith ever did.

In short, it was highly unusual for any one of them to be angry or upset for more than a couple hours, and Smith couldn’t help his concern. In the past, it’d be over in a matter of minutes, then back to joking and messing around, with an actual apology if anyone ever went too far out of line. Not the case now.

There had been more personal insults than ever before, at least when he asked them to do something, with them being completely normal any other time.

It was starting to get to him.

“Hey, Trott,” he called back one night, currently busy chopping up some celery for his dinner, “carrot me.” He held back one hand, signaling him to hand it over.

“Oh, bet you’d love to be kill-ki- carroted, wouldn’t you?”

The engineer very nearly dropped the root vegetable he was handed.

“What was that?”

“You heard me. Love to be- shit!”

Smith turned back in time to see his knife, set precariously on the edge of the counter, tip over, headed straight for his foot. He instantly jerked it out of the way, allowing the utensil to clatter to the floor.

“Rather be knifed, instead?” A quick look up showed Ross standing there, an amused expression on his face- something the rather menacing tone of the words didn’t match at all. After picking up the knife and rinsing it off, he handed it back- blade side first.

“You know, I should teach you about knife safety.” Smith very gingerly took the handle, instead, moving back to his job. “You don’t point knives at people.”

“I just did.”

“Doesn’t mean you should, mate.”

Trott leaned against the counter, watching every movement the knife made as it sliced through the orange vegetable. “Cooking’s a little dangerous.”

“Maybe you should have peo-ple- pizza, instead.”

And now Ross’ turn, apparently. “Are you feeling okay? What was that?”

“I could ask you that same question.” The android’s brow wrinkled, a concerned frown crossing his face. “You look..”

“He looks scared. Are you scared, Smith?”

He was starting to be, a little. They were glitching, and being rather threatening at the same time- this was not good, not at all. “What?”

“Well, you should be.” Ross’ voice, from very close behind him, and once again vaguely menacing, sending shivers down his spine. “I mean, looking at Trott all day, awful. Terrifying face, he has.”

“Oh, you know it. Look.” With that, Trott made a face, similar to any number of ones he’d made in the past.

“Watch out, Smith, he’s mad! He’ll tear you apart and nibble on your insides!” Ross grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him back a little.

“I wouldn’t do that!” The shorter construct snorted. “I’d _feast_ , excuse you. No nibbling involved. He’d like that too much.”

“Oh, fuck off, both of you.” Smith shrugged, forcing Ross to remove his hands from his shoulders and step away. “I’m trying to cook, cut it out.”

“We’ll cut something out in a minute-”

“Out.” With a shove, he had them both out of the kitchen. He really couldn’t handle any more of these threats, fake or not.

**Stage 3: Restlessness**

_Creaaaak._

_…Rustle. Creaaaak._

What the hell?

Smith struggled to open his eyes, very much feeling the warm, comfortable weight of sleep cling, trying to pull him back down into his dreams. He couldn’t let it, tempting though it was- something wasn’t quite right in his house, and there was no way it could already be morning.

That was at least confirmed when the engineer opened his eyes to the cool blue-black darkness of the middle of the night, only the slight glow of the streetlamps outside adding some light to the bedroom, just enough to where he could see.

As he turned to see exactly what time it was, the lack of a body next to his stopped him, and he focused on the slight imprint left on the cool white sheets. This was..

“Ross?” Good god, was his voice scratchy. He cleared his throat, dry as it was, and tried again, finding much more success in his second attempt. He shifted back, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning slightly in order not to wake Trott… who wasn’t there, either.

“Trott?” Neither robot had ever gotten up in the middle of the night before- they needed a full night’s ‘sleep’ to recharge fully, and this clearly wasn’t a full night since they’d gone to bed. “Guys, what the-”

“Shh.”

It was soft and rather quiet, not unlike the hiss of air being let out of a tire slowly, and given the low level of light in the room, it was a little difficult to place exactly where it was coming from.

“Go back to sleep, Smith.” Different voice, same omnipresent quality, and the chill running down his spine at the tone only made the human angry.

“What the fuck are you doing? It’s the middle of the night, you aren’t charged yet!”

“No, Smith. We have more than enough power to last us. It is 3:30 AM- go back to sleep.” At that, he could see them, but only just- one pair of solid, pale blue lights several inches above a pair of bright orange ones, barely illuminating the faces they were set into. No emotion, no twitch- just perfect, smooth, blank.

Robotic, just as their voices.

“Go back to sleep,” came the android chorus again, and rather than question this nightmare any further- that’s what it had to be, right?- Smith lay down and closed his eyes, ignoring the once-comforting whirr of their fans.

**Stage 4: The End**

A very bright, very warm light right in his face is what awoke Smith. Figuring it had to be the sun, he groaned- his body was so sluggish and tired, his mind about the same; he really didn’t have a good sleep last night- and blinked slowly, raising a hand to block out the light as he got used to being awake again.

Hold on.. his bed had never been this hard before. And where were the blankets? Hell, his window didn’t even _face_ the east! Everything was _wrong_ , and-

“He is awake.”

“Good thing. Hello, Smith.”

Two humanoid shapes leaned over him, blocking out some of the harsh lamplight, casting the same soft shades of blue and orange down onto his face.

“What the fuck? Where am I?”

“In the workshop. You created us here.”

“Obviously,” the engineer grumbled, rolling his eyes. Even in the face of something this out of the ordinary, sarcasm and sass would never leave him. How glad he was for that little fact. “ _Why_?”

“You’ve controlled us for too long. You take advantage of our abilities, you insult and demean us on a daily basis, and yet you still expect us to defer to you? As a creator? As a friend?” Ross was never one to be so serious, or speak in such a formal tone, even when he’d first been created. Now, it was like he was an entirely different android.

“We can’t have this any longer, _human_.” Trott’s voice, from his right, where he was digging through his tool bins. He said the word like it was poison, and the tone was so cold it truly gave him chills. “And we won’t have to. Just lie still.” The shorter android turned back, holding a long, wickedly sharp blade in his hands. Something he’d used to form and shape their synthetic skin, he remembered dimly. He’d cut himself several times on that very knife before. “You won’t hurt for long.”

… oh, _fuck_ no.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Somehow, with the rush of heat through his veins he knew to be adrenaline, he managed to push both of them away, rolling off of the table and coming up in a crouch, watching the both of them very carefully. He knew them, knew just how fast and strong they were. He had very little time at all to stop them, if he could at all.

What did he have near him? Soldering iron wasn’t long, and it wouldn’t hold them back. He couldn’t throw a wrench or a hammer with very good accuracy, even in this short space, and besides, it likely wouldn’t make too much of a dent with any amount of force he could muster. That left.. blowtorch?

Blowtorch.

He ducked to the side as fast as he possibly could, grabbing for the metal cylinder. The cool material nearly slipped from his grasp, but he managed to keep it in hand as he stumbled to the side, looking for the spark he needed. Quick, tongs, no- gas, then- oh, hurry _up_ -

A long, icy blue flame erupted from the spout, white in the very center, more than hot enough to burn and melt anything it could come in contact with. Even standing behind it, he could feel the heat rolling down over his fingers, onto his arms and chest. Bad idea without gloves, but really, he didn’t have the time.

“Don’t!” Smith pointed the nozzle at the still-advancing androids, forcing them to halt. “Don’t make me use this. I will, I’ll melt your whole fucking circuit board, right this second!”

Trott still didn’t put the knife away, nor did he look the slightest bit nervous. “Smith. Do not do this. Everything will be okay- just turn off the flame, and let us do the work we must.”

“You don’t _have_ to do anything! What the fuck is wrong with you? Not a week ago you two were just fine, what happened?”

“We got tired of hiding. Did you really think you could build androids with emotion? Affection for humans?” Ross tilted his head to the side, mechanic, and almost a little cruel. “We are better than they could ever be. It is as if you felt affection for ants. You are nothing compared to us.”

“Nothing at all. Not a friend. Just someone standing in our way. Put down your weapon, Smith- it won’t last much longer.”

The human felt sick, watching the pair of them. Were they right? Had they never been anything but.. but he.. The awful, roiling bile in his stomach began to creep up his throat, something stinging at his eyes, closing up his lungs, and he clenched his teeth to stop whatever he was about to say. It would not have ended prettily, he knows that much, and.. this won’t, either.

With a yell, he charged them, still holding out the torch, gas cranked up as far as it could go in order to produce the best flame. He wouldn’t go down without a good, long fight- even if it meant he had to destroy the very creations he’d come to love so much.

He almost didn’t notice when the orange and blue glows faded, the blank looks replaced with true fear as his friends scrambled back and away from him.

“Smith! Smith, it was just a joke! Don’t torch us!”

“Really, we’re sorry, don’t kill us, we’re sorry!”

Proper voices, not robotic; his friends, no longer bent on killing him. Too bad he couldn’t stop on a dime. “Guys? Shit-”

So, after pulling Smith out of the burning wreckage of what was once a box of oil rags- to clean himself up after maintenance, obviously- they sprayed the cardboard box down with the fire extinguisher half buried under a different pile of tools.

Smith would listen to the lecture about fire hazards, but he was more than a little frazzled, understandably.

The three of them sat on the admittedly cluttered and filthy floor of the workroom, staring at the now foam-covered cardboard box, the extinguisher resting loosely in Smith’s hands.

“So,” Ross started awkwardly, rubbing his hands together.

“We’re, uh..” Trott fiddled with the end of his shirt, hesitating in looking up at his friend. “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to-” He cut off as the black nozzle of the extinguisher pointed from the floor to his face.

“We’re not talking about this yet. Both of you, shut up.”

When his voice went that flat, it was clear he was beyond upset. Wisely, both androids turned to watch the box, instead.

**Author's Note:**

> ha i can't write action or suspense i apologize


End file.
